


Clean Sheets, Dirty Thoughts

by Octopocalypse



Category: South Park
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Party, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octopocalypse/pseuds/Octopocalypse
Summary: Prompt: Sweet intoxication: Both muses are drunk and have no clue what their doing! But things get a little naughty when they start getting all up on each other.-It’s when the blonde plants a kiss on his shoulder that he decides its time to stand up again. He barely breaks atmosphere, but the sound of Kenny hitting the floor is satisfying enough to keep him vertical.
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Craig Tucker
Kudos: 21





	Clean Sheets, Dirty Thoughts

Blame it on a Highschool party. They knew what they were doing, no one could deny that, didn’t mean they wouldn’t try. Thing’s were winding to a close, people taking off or passing out. Craig wasn’t a fan of sleeping on someone elses sheets- who knows when they were last washed, so...

He’s sitting on the floor, waiting for it to stop spinning while he ties his shoes when arms drape around him. The weight comes as a surprise, one he doesn’t show. Craig’s fingers were locked across the gap between his knees, and thankfully they support the burden, so he doesn't have to.

“Kenny,” He interrupts just as the other takes a breath to talk.

A laugh brushes the back of his neck, Kenny muttering ‘unbelievable.’ under his breath. His head was probably spinning with questions about how Craig knew- but he wasn't oblivious. The rat bastard had been watching him all night, Craig just let it happen. It’s when the blonde plants a kiss on his shoulder that he decides its time to stand up again. He barely breaks atmosphere, but the sound of Kenny hitting the floor is satisfying enough to keep him vertical.

“Wh’ere y’goin?” He slurs scrambling into his own boots just as Craig swings himself out the door.

“Home.”

A lot more questions follow, none of which he answers. Kenny is a nice guy, but he’s a talkative drunk, and all the more likely to brag when he's sober. Talkative and horny, two dangerous things, and Craig wasn’t going to be another notch in a bed post for the McCormick. Maybe he was hoping Kenny would drop off somewhere along the way, falling out of his orbit and leaving him to his drunken stupor. If only he could figure out how to drunken stupor.

Even when he stops talking Craig can hear the soft shuffle of footsteps right up to his door, where he turns around to finally face the blond. He was about to get stern, like, sterner than usual until he’s caught by Kenny’s eyes.

Wide, and lined with fluttering lashes wafting nescience.

“What?” Craig asks, despite his best interest.

“Let me sta-”

“No.”

Kenny launches into his essay. A Thousand Reasons Why- and Craig doesnt have time to hear it. He grabs the orange parka before his wailing wakes his parents. A firm hand throws them both into the foyer, a palm slapping over the woop and laugh fresh on the other boy’s lips. It takes Craig a sober 30 seconds to drag Kenny’s ass up to his room and toss him quiet and smiling on the bed.

He skips the light switch and grabs a remote from his desk, flicking on the erogenous LED display tucked into every nook and cranny.

“Wow,” Kenny whistles taking in the eyesore of a light show. The reflection of the neon lights giving him an even more mischievous air.

Craig deposits himself next to the other boy, eyes closed so he only feels Kenny scramble under the blankets. A ziiiip and a thump tells him Kenny discarded the parka, which means his bed sheets would need a wash tomorrow. Fine they were about overdue anyways. Craig makes no move to join him underneath, quite content to leave a healthy barrier between his and Kenny's skin.

He almost falls asleep when breath tickles the budding hair on his upper lip. Eyes snap open and Kenny is already kissing him, the sour taste of whiskey still clinging to his lips. Its nasty, strong and straight, Craig would have preferred something sweeter. Fingers wedge themselves between his and Kenny’s chins, searching for leverage to push the other away. A whine as his neck is bent backward punctuates the bright quiet of his room and Craig lets out a hiss.

“C’mon,” Kenny grumbles, biting his own tongue. “Le’mmi make it up to you.” He pleas fingers raking down the front of Craig’s hoodie. A flat stare that Kenny takes as an invitation to keep kissing and Craig is too taken aback to do much about it. He's complacent, before finally letting out a groan, granting access to a libidinous tongue.

He was already going to wash the sheets- it was all he could think as Kenny slid a hand down his front- might as well get em _dirty_.


End file.
